Smoking at the Mouth
by NickeltheRed
Summary: Mulan wanted to give Shang her heart...but she knew that she could never give him her soul. Post-film. Disney verse.


**For all intents and purposes, this original sequel of _Mulan_ takes its Classic Disney version and remodels into a more Grimm Brothers fairytale-influenced scenario, as in there's repetitive underlying themes and holds the concept of mystical forces colliding with the ways of the mortal realm. **

**Additional plot choices and tones are inspired by _Hua Mulan: Rise of a Warrior_ (2009) and Miyazaki's _Spirited Away_.**

* * *

 _"...Friendship dies and true love lies_

 _Night will fall and the dark will rise_

 _When a good man goes to war..."_

― Steven Moffat

* * *

Mushu, standing in his truest form now, lingered quietly on the top of Ancestor Hill, gazing down through the open window that relieved the Fa clan hosting themselves a private reunion inside, along with Captain Li Shang, doing so in the spirit of their safe return and grand achievements.

His eyes were trained on Mulan's cheerful smile as she passed a rice bowl to her mother, then her father.

Mushu studied Shang the longest though, watching the Captain's every expression and every movement. He waited to see if Shang was going to do or say anything something that may offend her family. But, it seemed to be going fairly well. There appeared to be a certain cloud of contentment surrounding Shang whenever Mulan's hand would press down over his shoulder in a friendly manner, directing the conversation towards him.

"Hail, Red Dragon." One of the temple spirits came sauntering up to Mushu's side on ghostly footsteps. He carried his severed head in between his hands. "The First Ancestor had just declared you as the official Fa Guardian for all generations to come."

Mushu scoffed and didn't even bother sparing Fa Deng a single glance.

"Why the silence?" Fa Deng asked, sounding a bit surprised by his reaction, or the sheer lack of one. "He thought you'd be pleased to stay now."

Finally, Mushu voiced his own thoughts. "I never asked to stay in the first place three centuries ago. They called me away from my homeland and suddenly I was here. They wanted a dragon to protect this bloodline, but I wanted nothing to do with them. They were too fussy with my methods. They should have thought twice before they summoned one like me. After all, I am different than my distant cousins who dwell in these parts."

"Well...," the head said curtly in response, rethinking things over, "...I suppose that would explain you're absence of ambition and care while going out on the battlefield with _me_... "

Mushu smirked at his comment but his face wasn't exactly lit with humor. "Yes...about that, I didn't hold much favor in mortals back then. In all honestly, and I'll only apologize to you about this tonight...you were merely a plaything to me. I spent time with you during that war because I thought it would be an amusing pastime. Then when I originally overheard Fa Mulan ran away to join the army...I thought it was just going to become just another game for me, something else to keep me occupied from going utterly mad here..."

Fa Deng quieted and his hollowed phantom eyes rolled sideways to peek up at the dragon and then his gaze followed Mushu's line of vision. It landed on Mulan. "But then...," he added softly, fully realizing, "...everything changed, didn't it? You stepped up and actually _tried_ this time. For her. You tried for her. You grew protective over her."

Mushu give him a gradual nod. "For her, I would do anything as she does for me."

 **-.-**

Mulan married Shang months later.

Her mother cried tears of joy—her father flashed her that real warm smile of his, the one that showed that he was proud of her, and he prized them with two halves of one necklace—Shang owned the Yang piece, Mulan wore the Yin. Grandmother Fa recited blessings and old passages of wisdom and fertility to them and their celebration continued for hours more until they all retired to their beds.

"...Was it the wedding you imagined for yourself?" Shang asked her in the aftermath of consummating their marriage.

Mulan granted him an honest answer, "It was better than I could have imagined it. For a long time I thought no one would want to marry me, so I didn't know what to imagine for my wedding day."

 **-.-**

The thing was, _battles_ ended, but _wars_ felt everlasting.

Even while basking in their victory and rejoicing in their family's love, there was still visible damage that followed the Hun evasion. There were dead ones to bury yet along the way and related losses that were leading to other threats.

There was another outbreak.

Shang was naturally made Imperial General not only for his known skill, but also as a reward for playing his part in the defeat of Shan Yu. His next war tour had started out much like the day when Mulan's father had accepted the camp enrollment scroll from Chi Fu. The Imperial Palace sent a formal summons to their compound simply weeks later, requesting soldiers to march against with the newest dangers slinking their way over China's hillsides.

And so, away they went. All eligible warriors young and old assembled together again and they traveled across the land wearing their armor, carrying Military Flags behind their stallions, facing any said rivals directly with diminutive fear.

On the surface, Mulan had stood resolute at the gates with Yao's newlywed bride weeping beside her, watching Shang and her friends ride off into the sun with a greater sense of purpose. Privately though, she was conflicted the whole time.

A smaller part of her longed to join them in the action, to taste that sort of excitement again...but the more reasonable part of her mind kept reminding her that someone had to help overlook their property while Shang was on leave; and besides, she did enjoy the fact that _she_ was free to go revisit the Fa Estate whenever she wished it. It was best that she stayed in closer range this round instead of being rivers apart.

She had stopped thinking only like a daughter. She had to think like a wife as well.

Yet, one cannot be too positive that written scrolls could even arrive to their wanted destination if they are constantly handed from one messenger to the next. Soldiers who were too busy wielding weapons and cutting down enemies did not always have the luxury of relaxing under a tree to read personal greetings their family members wrote to them, let alone write something back. Only legit urgent notices were passed between fellow military figures without fail.

Thus with no true guarantee of having a sure way to contact each other between the villages and the battleground, Mulan had grown so unusually lonely during Shang's absence that she honestly spent more and more time commuting back to the Fa Estate than in her current compound.

That cold hollowness slowly taking over her on the inside though, was now melting away—at least for a while. Tonight, Mulan was finally picking up the falling pieces of her inner strength. She was the Woman Hero of China.

For tonight, she didn't have to worry about Shang's summoning.

Because, for now, she had him. He was there with her.

Mulan _knew_ her loneliness could not excuse poor decisions. That was not the honorable way. A good wife must always keep her bearings in check. Although, he was willing to give her the pleasure she had been missing in her life and she was already beyond _thinking_ about proper etiquette and the protocols to deny him the same. Yes, only for tonight, she wanted to take advantage of this before those negative feelings would return with the rising sun.

As he laid upon her across the expensive silken bedding, Mulan realized that she had come to really enjoy this newer side of him and wondered why he waited this long to show it to her until recently. Allowing her hands to slowly roam over his spine and his hard pale stomach she soaked in the familiar male shape of his muscles, his flowing dark hair, the color of his eyes that seemed to change whenever the light of the lanterns would hit them just right, and how his lips faintly tasted of black smoke and deep mysteries she couldn't name.

Within the hours they had left together, he did everything he could to satisfy her, to reminder her what _warmth_ felt like, whispered things into her ear to comfort her through it all. Mulan merely embraced him tighter in return, telling him he was perfect.

Alas, the night began to wane.

It was barley before the break of dawn when they both relaxed there, side by side, fully awake. Mulan went into a mild daze, knowing she'd soon end up all alone once more and frankly, she was _dreading_ it. Her fingertips traced mindless circles up his skin, her hand coming to rest casually at the base of his throat.

His own hand trailed along her hip, her elbow, her shoulder, and then started to toy with her hair. He mumbled something about how long it had grown since she returned home. "...I must leave, and soon...," he added minutes later, eventually pulling himself into a sitting position and angled his profile towards her. "I shouldn't linger. It'll just make our parting more painful."

Mulan sighed semi-bitterly after hearing these words, but she still lifted herself behind him to drop her chin over the smoothness of his shoulder with one arm gently sliding back around his torso. "I know I'll see you again someday. You haven't let me down so far."

He laughs at this, very softly. "Haven't I?"

Mulan was fully aware he had difficulty trusting others in the past. She had too once. Nevertheless, it was common knowledge between them that they would both tear down a thousand stone walls by steel and tooth if meant saving one another. So that was why she just said, "Not at all."

Twisting around to steal one last kiss from her lips, he stood, slipping back into his black robes decorated with a red and gold dragon on each sleeve, and he uttered his final farewell. "I know you better than anyone, Mulan. You will be alright."

 **-.-**

Mulan's father and mother were ecstatic. Wine was offered between them and laughter rippled through the Fa Estate. Even Shang's mother had arrived later to cheer with them.

They all spoke in dreamy voices the whole night.

 _"Our first grandchild!"_

 **-.-**

Snowdrops trimmed China's rooftops.

Drums sounded, and Fa Li immediately informed Mulan daughter it meant that the soldiers were due to return home any day now.

Mulan's wintery heart swelled with relief to learn that her Shang had survived and was uninjured. When they were reunited at the gates, she embraced him happily with no shame and no streaming tears. Shang on the other hand was openly delighted to hear the news of a child growing inside of her. They ate supper together, shared their newest stories over a pot of fresh tea, and held hands in the halls. It almost...felt as if she and Shang were reenacting their wedding ceremony all over again and she didn't complain.

From there, emotions settled and a series of ordinary days passed them by until Mulan was stung with the same hushed disappointment again. Shang was scheduled to rejoin the ranks for that coming season _and_ he was about to leave her even heavier with child by then. At that rate, he'd miss the actual birth.

And her prediction turned out to be accurate. As soon as Springtide arrived, she went into labor only and he was hardly aware of it.

All Mulan really had that morning were her grandmother's herbs, her mother's wet dabbing cloths, Shang's own mother instructing her to just _keep breathing_ , and her beloved father pacing outside the door.

She hoped Mushu was lurking somewhere nearby too.

It was just enough to carry through.

Finally, when Mulan allowed her sore body to go completely slack, she tried her best to get her mother's attention while the teary-eyed child was cleaned off. "...Well?" she panted.

Her mother had offered her a small accepting smile in return as she handed the swaddled babe back to Mulan's arms.

"It's a girl."

 **-.-**

Mulan made sure her sleeping daughter was still safe in her mother's embrace before she ducked into the shadows and slipped into the empty hall, stopping at the window to take a deep breath in. Her gut had been twisting with nervousness ever since she stepped a foot back into the Fa Estate and a dark thought had just dawned on her...

The gentle evening breeze now caressing her cheeks was soothing to her and the silvery moonlight spilling over the water felt peaceful and nonjudgmental.

Mulan just needed a moment. She needed to balance out her conscience before her dear contented family would notice the questionable frown that was creeping over her face.

"Darling girl," someone all too familiar spoke up behind her. "What's gotten into you?"

Mulan briefly spun around to find her hunched-back grandmother hobbling towards her and together, they turned to the window again. (Mulan lost track of old this woman truly was. Perhaps a century at the most, and yet, her grandmother didn't miss a thing. Never did.)

Mulan bit her lip, not knowing how to express her concern into words. "It's nothing, Nana."

"Nonsense," she insisted, giving Mulan her pity, "you can't hide from me, Mulan."

"It's...about Miayo, Nana."

"Yes?"

"I don't know if Shang..."

"...Will be disappointed by not having a son or not?" guessed Grandmother Fa.

"No, that's not it, Nana," Mulan pushed on. "It's just...see, there's been...I've been...well, I'm not certain if Miayo is...because on the outside she's looks like me...but I what's on the inside...I think she's..."

Mulan couldn't say it, couldn't describe it—if there'll ever be one point in history when she'd turn into a complete coward, it'd be right now, right here, in the presence of her own family members—standing under the weight of her grandmother's peering gaze. After all, the judgments that feel the closest to one's heart end up hurting that person the most.

A hollow silence returned and Grandmother Fa, surprisingly sharp as ever, somehow understood what Mulan meant to say. Just like that. Her sage-like eyes flickered with shock, then realization after putting two and two together, then something else crossed her features which resembled genuine acceptance, or spiritual admiration.

"Mulan," she finally stated, plainly yet firmly. "You've spilled blood, and you've lost blood in order to save this country, and to bring back honor to this house. It shall stay that way. No threats will be heard from me. This...is an omen as I see it. It's bigger than me so I won't question it. Embrace it...don't run from it. You can't now."

Mulan nodded as she finished.

"I shall take this to me grave. I promise."

 **-.-**

He was a seasoned General, nevertheless, Shang was baffled how warfare could cause time to pass right by him like a fog sliding across a river, barely even visible, hardly solid, but it's still there. Still moving forward, still moving on.

Though today he had landed himself in the medic's tent after he took an enemy's arrow to the forearm that morning. He silently sat there on the cot patiently as possible as the old man shuffled around him, gathering and throwing away supplies. They already pulled the arrow out of his muscle, which pained him greatly if Shang was going to be honest with himself, but at least _that_ was the worst of it. Now all he had to was to stop the bleeding and close up the wound.

Dabbing the excess blood away from the broken skin, the medic assured Shang that arrow wounds were quite common, and were a much lesser threat if they were caught in the limbs versus the torso or chest. "I've seen a lot worse than this scrape, General, trust me on that," he added for extra measure. "You may receive just a little scar or two afterwards, but that'll heal in no time!"

"I've been hit by arrows before," Shang told him, "...still I appreciate your efforts."

"Were you so concerned about getting hit for another reason, then?"

Shang was never one to create small talk. He never wasted his breath or his words that carelessly if he didn't need to, particularly at camp or during a mission. However, he thought it would a decent distraction from the medic's last round of poking the wound. "My wife...she, ah, she was expecting her first child soon before I left her. It's been more months now since I've seen her..."

"Well, in that case, let us have you fixed up and ready to travel off from camp when the time comes. No doubt a wife like yours would have to give you a healthy boy, eh? Perhaps one of these days you'll find him waiting for you on the front steps when you arrive home. My three young sons usually do that for me every time I'm away."

Shang smiled faintly at the thought. That type of clear, silent pride passed from father to son spoke stronger than words, and it was one of the best feelings in the world.

"Perhaps."

 **-.-**

Miayo was reaching eight months old when Shang eventually did return to the compound.

Yes, he had admitted to Mulan that he expected it would've been a son, as their traditions were still quite challenging for him to escape. But he knew there would be plenty of time for breeding sons ahead of them and he asked Mulan to see her.

In response, Mulan guided him back to the nursery bed for a proper look under the bright starlight.

For a gentle minute or two, Shang watched the infant slumber on before he muttered, "She's beautiful. Really, I mean it. She looks just like you."

"Her name is Miayo," Mulan offered him, grinning fondly. "Father and Mama just adore her."

"I can understand why."

 **-.-**

"She's a little you," Mushu said, staring down at Miayo from the peak of Ancestor Hill as the toddler was chasing the crickets in the grass below. His reptilian lips parted at the corners and slightly curled into something akin to a smile.

"So I've been told," Mulan jokes mordantly. Young Miayo already resembled her own appearance so greatly that Shang's mother kept telling her, _"Goodness me, I cannot find a trace of Shang anywhere in her!"_ Mulan's involuntary grin however faltered somewhat when she glanced over at him again, eye to eye. Her long braid swayed with the motion.

Mushu never remained in his smallest form these days. More often, like today, he appeared to her in this most natural form, standing at more a majestic height, a little higher than a tall stallion. His scarlet-scaled neck was long and thick and was trimmed with a sleek golden mane. His dark claws and white fangs were large enough to pierce through one of their cattle with ease. Mushu had even permitted her ride on his back on occasion when it was late at night and Shang was gone, and the clouds were hanging heavy across the moon so they wouldn't be so exposed in the air as they flew overhead.

"You have the right to meet her too, Mushu," she acknowledged then.

"But I can't stay. You know that." Mushu reminded her, rumbling in his chest. "I have my duty in the Spirit Realm as well and I feel its pull now more than ever these days since your need of me has lessened after your married the Captain. It was unavoidable."

Those last few words pricked her. Mulan knew a lucky someone could one day befriend a dragon...it was highly uncommon, but not entirely impossible. She also learned that no one could ever _tame_ that dragon friend of theirs. Or _own_ them. Their species was placed too high on the Celestial Ladder to be given such chains. The Ancestors valued dragons for their knowledge (even dragons like Mushu) and they were the lead caretakers of Nature and beyond.

Still, she and Mushu were bound together. Mulan might have offered Li Shang her heart. But never her soul. Her soul rightfully belonged to Mushu. She owed him that much. If he hadn't found her hiding out in the bamboo forest, debating back and forth so foolishly with herself, and hadn't decided to aid her then in deceiving the military ranks either and protected her from the cold up in the snowy mountains, she _would_ have been dead by now.

"I'll always need you," she voiced sternly, meaning every word of it, now lifting her hand to stroke the jagged edge of his antler. "Besides, I'd feel better if you guarded Miayo too. And I know she'll ask me about you one day, believe me. Of all things, she already recognizes a dragon when she sees one. So what am I supposed to tell her?"

Mulan thoughts drifted back to Miayo's small birthmark she bore on her right shoulder blade. Its slender reddish curving line definitely reminded Mulan very much of Mushu's body shape. Miayo even liked to peel her clothes off in front of the mirror in the great hall to stare at it a lot.

Though Mushu was steadfast in his decision. After all, he hadn't come to _Mulan_ until she was grown and at a marrying age. Even then, the might of his true fiery self had overwhelmed her so much at first that her scream and hiding behind a rock had caused him to use up most of his magic that day in order to shrink down to the size of a common serpent to seem less imitating.

"She should not see me at all until she's absolutely ready."

 **-.-**

By Miayo's fourth year, Shang's on leave once again, but her smile widened with curiosity and joy each time Mulan rehearsed one of her dramatic stories about red dragons and war heroes before being laid to sleep.

By her sixth year, Miayo could ride Khan bareback with very little extra assistance. The black steed was far older now than when Mulan was younger and used to exercise him daily...but Khan, he always owned a free spirit, and could still buck someone right off if he wanted to. Though Miayo clutched onto his mane and had no fear in her voice as she gave Khan the order to gallop just a little faster.

At age eight, Miayo happily scurried around the Fa Estate during one of their summer visits, with her arms held out wide as if she was going to rise from the ground at any given moment and soar away. Because that was the type of child she was becoming. Miayo pretended she could fly while racing with the crickets and the roosters instead of concerning herself with dolls or fantasies about a handsome husband coming to claim her in the future. She and the animals engaged in their little running sport until Miayo happened to run across the family's wardrobe on display in the east wing—the one that was occupied with her grandfather's suit of armor and helmet—the Sword of Shan Yu mounted proudly above it. She turned back to confront her mother and grandfather about it, who were privately sipping tea together.

The energy in the room changed after she asked and the father-daughter pair seated around the table both studied the girl carefully. And when Fa Zhou decided to explain the armor's significance to Miayo and reminded her how her mother had saved China's Empire once, something in Miayo's dark eyes went alight, like a red spark flashing against a stormy sky.

"I want to wear armor of my own someday," she told them, as if it was the most natural statement she could ever say in her lifetime. "Will you teach me, Mama?"

Mulan swallowed hard and locked eyes with her father who honestly looked totally horrified, rather briefly. He could sense what was coming and knew exactly how Mulan was going to react. She wouldn't resist. Fa Zhou remembered when Mulan was around ten years old herself, she would often abandon her loom and other homemaking practices to sneak outside into the blistering heat and climb the blossom trees, barefooted and leaving her hair unbound, getting it tangled with twigs. The two loves of his life sitting before him were (and had been) very different from all the other daughters in the village. He supposed in Miayo's individual case, a part of that had to do with Mulan's awarded social status, which ultimately granted them both certain leniencies living as females in their society built upon such old traditions. Mulan was wealthier nowadays, had personal servants and cooks of her own, and most days General Li Shang's compound had standby Imperial guards posted at every open door during the day to protect the girls—another compensation on the Emperor's part.

And, as soon as Mulan had begun to raise the child on her own, it should have probably become clear to the rest of them that if Miayo had in fact been born a boy, Mulan would've treated her child any differently than she did right now.

Regardless of her femininity, Miayo had Fa blood rushing inside her and had a long line of warriors for relatives behind her.

That was mostly likely why Mulan had bent to her daughter's heart's calling without delay. "If you wish it, my love."

 **-.-**

Shortly thereafter Miayo turned eleven, and had gotten lost in the bamboo forest one morning simply by wandering off without consent. Mulan of course, became very anxious and started to dislike just how much Miayo was like herself. A rebel. Someone who didn't always let the normal rules tie them down.

All the workers in the fields dropped their chores to look for Miayo up by the stream. The elderly farmer they had for a neighbor offered his help when he overheard Mulan (the esteemed Woman Hero of China) striding around outside, calling for Miayo. He walked with a minor limp and his bones looked so brittle. Mulan couldn't turn him away though. She needed the all added help wherever she could find it.

She managed to summon Mushu in private as well in the prayer temple, pleading him to search on his own.

He didn't object.

By high noon, Mulan and the farmer did locate Miayo. She came strolling out of the towering mass of bamboo towards them. The wildflowers brushed against the front of her new silk gown as she moved and the look on her youthful face was serene while she gazed down at a secret trinket clasped in her little hands.

Mulan ordered Miayo to take bath once they returned to the General's compound and she examined her daughter's body thoroughly for any hidden injuries. But Miayo just tightened the drying cloth around her arms to shield herself from the cool breeze flooding in through the windows.

"I'm alright, Mama," she said quietly, knowing her mother's temper should never be tested. "I wasn't lost, not really. Because he was there. I followed the tracks the dragon left for me all the way out. I think I saw him, Mama," she finished with childlike wonder, "He's red. I found one of his scales."

An hour later, Mulan made certain Miayo was fast asleep and safe in her covers again before she stepped outside with delicate feet to visit Mushu, not wanting to disturb the household staff.

While she lounged comfortably amongst his magnificent coils, her fingers leisurely threading through the stream of his hair, the dragon finally spoke. "...See that? Miayo's mind is strong and she follows her heart. She knows who she is, and she's not afraid of that. She's very much like you."

Mulan exhaled. "No, she's like a dragon."

 **-.-**

After Miayo was steadily crossing that final threshold of her adolescence and received her first monthly cycle by thirteen, coming of age.

Mulan had personally commissioned the town's metal crafter to forge her daughter a blade of her very own. It turned out relatively smaller than the average sword used by troop trainees, but Mulan figured she had made a good choice when Miayo's hand had first reached out and gripped the hilt, letting the blade cut through the wind.

"I realize its size isn't exactly standard, Miayo, but I assumed you would want to start with a weapon that would complement the length of your arm better."

"It's enough for me," Miayo offered, unbothered by this. "It's narrow and sharp. Like a dragon's tooth."

"So, does that mean you're really ready?"

Miayo's eyes hardened while as she observed her own reflection in the shiny edge, nodding. "Yes, I'm ready."

Mulan beamed with parental anticipation. "Alright then. Lesson number one..."

 **-.-**

"Mushu, you keep leaving those scales behind for Miayo to find on purpose, aren't you?"

A playful smirk stretched onto his humanly face. "Should I stop?"

"No." Mulan leaned her back into his shoulder as she surveyed their reflection on the edge of the pond. "She likes that."

 **-.-**

During that following year...was when Miayo's questions started to rise again, like a whirlwind, each one of them more meaningful and pointed than the last. Miayo hounded Mulan for satisfying answers, wanting to exactly why she didn't have her father present in her life. Why couldn't _she_ have a father loving _her_ just like Grandfather Fa loved Mulan? Didn't he miss them...or else, how could they be so sure he ever return at all?

Mulan kept promising her that he would, when she was ready.

Dusk settled upon the compound and the birds settled back within their nests. Mulan kneeled behind Miayo and freed her hair from the all tight bindings she put in specifically during her exercises.

"Any word from my father?"

Mulan undid Miayo's last braid. "Not since the last time you have asked me that."

"How much longer could his formal patrol go on for?"

"That is not mine to decide."

A cloak of stillness fell upon them shortly before Miayo piped up again, her following words coming out almost in a whisper...as if they had the power to curse all of China if she did not say them any louder. "Perhaps he prefers to forget us."

Hearing this, Mulan dropped her gaze and she groaned under her breath at her daughter's current moodiness. "Nonsense. He would never do such a thing. Shang and I—"

Miayo's head dropped. "Never mind."

(The truth hurt. The truth could hurt them, so Mulan planned on following in her Grandmother Fa's footsteps. She would take the rest of her secrets to her grave.)

Despite having the ability to learn new assessments and skills quickly, Miayo was clearly getting frustrated with the mystery tearing holes into her mother's marriage. Her temper bubbled hotly under the heartache of it all and soon she grew quiet, stone-faced, and steel-hearted. She still expressed her love easily to Mulan, and to Grandfather Fa and to her grandmothers; though to the rest of world, Miayo had little mercy left over to spare. She was forever aware of how much of her heart was placed into every situation, and discussing her father's role in her life became very sensitive territory.

Mulan frequently tried to redirect her daughter's opinions.

Miayo would have none of it. She did however value her training sessions. Out in the courtyard, under the sun, moving with the wind over the earth's surface, hearing the water running the distance, surrounded by Nature's magic, was where Miayo felt completely connected.

"...Do want the lanterns out?" Mulan whispered later that night.

"No." Miayo protested against it just as quietly. "I like to watch them burn."

 **-.-**

Before Mushu departed that evening he wondered out loud if Mulan would sing for him.

She did of course without much fuss. Dragons loved music.

She sang him a traditional village lullaby Grandmother Fa used to sing to her as a child and she tenderly touched her lips to his large snout when he started to purr deep in his throat in response.

For someone who didn't have proper self-esteem in her beauty years ago and claimed she that could never do what the other women did that well, Mushu thought it was rather ironic that Mulan had the most beautiful singing voice of any mortal woman he had ever heard.

 **-.-**

The week after Miayo turned fifteen, Mulan had promised her a new weapon. A full set of new weapons, actually. Miayo became especially talented at handling daggers. Those who knew of her would tell strangers that she was the best blade thrower to be seen in these parts.

They reached the crafter's booth and Mulan poked her head out of the drape framing the entrance. "Wait here, my love. I shouldn't be long. The owner of shop is expecting me to inspect them first."

Miayo nodded, taking her post along the nearby wall. And she had hardly been there for that long at all when a clutter of five Third Class-dressed boys, all around her own age, happened to be making their way up the market until they spotted her.

"A girl standing here all alone?" the lead boy said teasingly, guiding them over in her direction. His eyes flickered to the sign painted above her. "Waiting for sword? No, that couldn't be right."

The five boys sniggered amongst themselves as Miayo stood her ground, refusing to acknowledge their presence openly. She coaxed herself to ignore the boiling tingle waking up inside her veins, heating up her fingertips.

"She looks silly, doesn't she?" Lead Boy continued, "No smile on her pretty lips, and no comb or flower in her hair either."

The fourth boy lifted his hand at that point to touch her free natural hair without permission, so Miayo blocked his hand immediately, swatting it away.

The heated sensation within her now erupted, spreading up to her chest, cheeks, and mouth. She re-clenched her fists, breathing out once through her teeth.

"Ah. Come now, pretty one," Lead Boy urged her on, still flaunting his mock-affection. "You'll never make a decent wife—or a good whore for that matter—with an attitude like this. No man wants a woman that's cold and course to hold every night."

"And you'll never be able to _keep_ a wife satisfied with a harsh tongue like _yours_ , let alone a whore." Miayo countered rather coolly before she finally faced her back to them. "Besides, to me you smell like cattle droppings."

She had taken a few more even steps in the opposite direction, deciding she would just have to meet her mother up the street a ways instead of lingering there with them. Though nothing about conflict was ever that simple.

Catching the sound of angry footsteps shuffling in the sand from behind, coming closer and closer, Lead Boy was cussing at her through a growling tone and he gained on her, promising punishment.

And it all happened in flash. Miayo reacted so quickly to the feel of his fingers grabbing at her blue-flowered collar, ripping it at the seam. It was sheer instinct that made her whirl around, it was sheer instinct that made her feet push from the ground and _leap_ on top of him like a wild cat would, roaring from the back of her throat, hands tightening over his shoulders.

Lead Boy released a loud grunt as they went crashing to the ground. The other boys watch them roll around in the dirt over and over until Lead Boy was on his stomach with Miayo propped over him, nails clawing down his back as she tried to pull herself closer to his neck. They backed off in awe, uncertain what to do next. This kind of attack was nothing like they've ever witness before...it certainly wasn't anything commonly practiced in Martial Arts. The girl just looked like a feral beast in the process of slaying her prey. Lead Boy was trashing back on the flat on his spine, catching the girl's eyes change color when a ray of sun hit them just right through her wild strands of hair and he started to _screech_.

Several bystanders were stunned by the noise and were drawing closer to see what was happening as well. A husband and wife rushed towards commotion afterwards, yelling in worry for _their_ son who was scrapping with the girl.

 _"_ _Móguǐ!"_ Lead Boy shrieked again and again, _"Móguǐ! Móguǐ! Get it off! Get it off!"_

"Miayo!" Mulan's voice though, was the one that was the firmest and the loudest above the others. It pierced through everyone ears.

She strolled forward with perseverance, practically ripping Miayo off of the boy currently shaking in hysterics and without further hesitation, whipped her daughter behind her so they stood back to back, and Miayo was of out of clear view.

Pressed up behind her, Miayo was seeing red and her skin was still pulsing with too much heat. She let her nails dig into the fabric of her gown at her sides, trying to regain her full composure.

The husband and wife approached Mulan after helping their boy to his feet, brushing the sand off his trousers. The husband looked up accusingly. "How dare you not teach your girl more manners!"

Mulan was hardly fazed, and she glared back in set authority. "My daughter _does_ know her manners, sir, I assure you. It shall not happen again as long as I'm watching her. I gave you my word as a Hero of China."

"Husband," the boy's mother whispered hastily, grabbing the man's wrist. "That's Fa Mulan, the great Woman Hero of China. Please, do not disrespect her. It shall bring dishonor to our house."

Their boy meanwhile still looked quite upset and was on the verge of real tears himself as he pointed his finger straight at them, repeating what he had cried out earlier. _"_ _Móguǐ!"_

"Hero or not," the man countered sourly, "our house won't ever forget this!"

Mulan kept Miayo in place while the family turned, pushing their way through the crowd. The others slowly retreated too and faded from sight. Mulan finally ushered Miayo into a small shadowy lane between two shops to discuss the incident and Miayo instantly began to speak in her defense.

"Enough!" Mulan's gaze turned into ice and daggers, passionate and collected, and wouldn't tolerate any more tantrums for that day. "Mind your temper, my love, especially when in the public eye. You must! You were nearly smoking at the mouth. And then what?"

"But, Mama, they attacked me first!"

"You disrespected them though, yes?"

"It's they who should have respected me!"

"Then why attack them?"

"They were vile, Mama! Was I just to stand there and allow them to abuse me like a stray dog?"

"You're not a dog," Mulan's shoulders sagged a little and her next words were meant to be soothing, "you're a lady."

But, Miayo didn't want those soothing words. "I am not a lady!"

 **-.-**

Shang had not missed a single mutter between the rice workers he passed as he rode back to his wife.

 _"Such a strange girl that woman has. Strange family...,"_ he heard a plantation woman say to her sisters, or he'd hear other things like, _"...If I acted like her when I was that young, my father would have whipped me silent."_

It didn't take him much longer than that to understand they were referring to Miayo. Her recent behavior had become the main source of chatter throughout the neighboring villages.

Then that was when Mulan retold him of what happened in the market. Miayo attacked a boy who was trying to bully her in public, and the whole incident ended _very_ badly. "He called her a demon," Mulan finished with a chilling tone. "If front of everyone! Now the entire village is thinking it!"

Shang couldn't believe these things had actually happened while he was away. As a young boy, he was personally known for his impeccable obedience and self-control, always hoping to maintain his father's full approval after starting out as a mere combat student. Though one afternoon, during warmups, he happened to lose that composure when he was targeted by Fan Shi—the bully who stomped around the training grounds day by day as if he rightfully owned them. Fan Shi was two years older than him taller at the time and roughly a head taller. That didn't matter to Shang however, because he had instinctively threw his fist into Fan Shi's mouth hard enough to make the bully fall right on his backside. The rest of their peers stood there nearby, awestruck as Fan Shi began to whimper afterwards. Shang felt both satisfied and stunned at what he had just done. He regulated his breathing and his burst of anger subsided just as quickly as it manifested. He'd remembered that the instructors were watching. He nervously stole a glance at where his father sat. Old General Li seemed equally shocked and impressed that Fan Shi was overpowered by his novice son like that.

Although, this wasn't the same. The thing was...Miayo didn't just raise her fist. She completely went in for the kill, like an animal on the hunt, not like a War Hero. Not like him, and like not her mother would've done. She wasn't even sorry for what she did...and _that_ was what Shang couldn't let go of.

Therefore, night after night of staying in his home, he began to spy more subtle details that offered him a wider scope of it all.

There was a wave of tension in the air whenever Miayo walked by. The servants would nearly hold their breath and shirk back against the walls...out of fear? Out of respect? Shang figured it was probably both. No one angered her. No one but he and Mulan spoke to her. No one else dared to. And if Miayo happened pass a mirror, or any shiny surface that granted her a reflection, she'd stare at it for a little too long. But it wasn't vanity. Miayo was _searching_ for something hidden within herself, as if she was trying to understand herself better.

Shang felt a jab of remorse. The girl...his firstborn was a stranger to him.

"What is it?" Mulan could see how torn Shang was on inside, and this only made Shang ponder if she was that observant around _him_ , then how could she not notice the oddities blooming around Miayo too?

 **-.-**

After dark, Mulan only had to give him one tender glance to make him understand what she wanted from him. In turn, he willingly complied. She swiftly guided him back to her chambers, not even bothering to light a lantern. There's already a light blazing in his eyes.

Her hands glided across his shoulders and they remembered the firm and graceful shape his body as they lay resting side by side facing each other, rivers of black hair sprawling out against the red silk.

Mulan always preferred to sleep on red because it was a very dignified color. It reminded her of honor, of the bloodshed and the success it brought her in the past, of Miayo's birth, and of _him_. She slept better on red because the color made her feel wanted, warmed, and safe. She felt the _safest_ when he was near.

His fingertips raised to caress her waist as she whispered he could be the only one to completely understand Miayo.

Their soft conversation gradually waned into waves of love making. Though it was not like the few times before. Mulan was rigid and taught and tried, desperately trying to physically _shed_ the worry and negativity and the _winter_ from herself, by diving deeper into his warmth while she could. For naturally, he'd be gone in the morning.

His kisses that night nearly burned her mouth and he strained to contain himself the some higher extent, but he responded fervently to every little shove and tug she gave him.

He eventually released inside her and Mulan momentarily felt his fire spread throughout her whole core, felt it running through her veins.

She fell into slumber as soon as he touched his sighing lips to her hairline. _"...I love you."_

 **-.-**

Miayo's sixteen and was out in the middle courtyard now, training again. Every dagger she tossed perfectly hit their marks carved into the wooden poles staked in the sand around her.

Mulan watched her daughter from the archway for a little while, seeing how precise Miayo's footwork was, how tight her spins were, seeing how sturdy she landed after a kick and flip. It had been a lot of years of her motherly guidance, hard work, and dedication on Miayo's behalf and that indeed showed.

Though eventually, Mulan called out to her daughter. "Miayo, stop for now. Rest."

Miayo paused and rotated out of her proper stance to look in her mother's direction, then glanced over at the yellowing horizon. "Not until sundown," she insisted.

"No," Mulan opposed, "Even tigers know when to cease hunting in order to be ready for the next meal. I promise those targets will be there tomorrow waiting for you still. Come inside, I have tea ready. You need your rest for when the General returns."

"Very well." Half-grudgingly, Miayo exhaled deeply and simply dropped her last weapon, following her mother inside for evening tea.

Mulan had just set out two porcelain cups and was about to the tea, when an explosion in the outer hall had suddenly swallowed their silence whole and rattled the floor.

Miayo's heartbeat filled her ears as she and her mother ran forwards, peaking out through the doors. A wail impales the air, and Mulan stiffened on impulse. The bamboo lacing the walls are on fire.

Hurried footsteps thundered in their direction and Mulan spun back into the room in time, dodging a flying dagger. She pushed Miayo back with her, hissing quietly, "Run, my love."

"What if—?"

"Do as I say! Run!"

Miayo obeyed...or her feet do at least, and they carried her away from her mother who was charging the two matching black-clothed enemies emerging from the adjacent hall.

She bumped into one of the female servants crouching in the corner on her way out and Miayo sprinted over, grabbing her wrist and guided the weeping woman to safety. Swirls of smoke followed their every move Miayo inhaled its scent after she stopped to reconsider her decision. They didn't even get that far out the main doors when a man had screamed behind them then.

Before running back in the direction from which they came, Miayo told the servant to remain low and stay close to the outer wall. Upon her frantic return, Miayo could the make out the pair of corpses slumped on the floor. And then she saw the silhouette of her mother falling to her knees too, swaying to the side. "No," she said to herself on sheer instinct. "No, Mama, no!"

Mulan had taken many hits to the chest and the staleness of her blood filled her mouth. Breathing was becoming difficult and a dull colors were fogging her vision, although, she did not shut her eyes because she could still hear the swift patter of Miayo nearing.

Miayo stooped down to prop her upwards, supporting her from the back and they sat there, just like that, cradled together for a long moment.

When she finally forced herself to speak, Mulan's voice was strained and hoarse, and nothing that familiar to Miayo's ears. "You must walk this path alone now...my love."

Miayo's fingers clutched her tighter in silent protest. She wouldn't allow this. Her mother is the Woman Hero of China; Fa Mulan was supposed to be next to indestructible. This wasn't her end. Not like this, not now. "Hush, Mama. The medics can heal you. They will, I'll make them heal you."

Tears threatened to pour from Mulan's eyes, though they didn't look like tears of regret. They glistened against the growing flames, causing them to feel light and amused. "You're being stubborn," she teased her daughter in spite of her injuries. "Look at me. There is enough blood poured here could to make the river run red."

"This isn't fair," Miayo snapped, "I don't understand why!"

"Those assassins...were the boy and his father from the market place. The same ones you insulted." Mulan sighed, then cringed. "You tore an embarrassing hole in the fabric of their family's reputation. Revenge was _their_ choice to restore it. We can't change that now."

"I was their target, wasn't I? _I_ killed you," Miayo shuddered, releasing a single sob that burned the back of her throat. "It's my fault...I've killed my own mother."

Mulan raised her good hand and stoked her daughter's hair in a forgiving, affectionate manner. She smiled even wider. "You're smoking at the mouth, my love," she recited, "Save that fire for a better time."

Mulan had fought bravely, she had fought ruthlessly. For Miayo, for her father. Even for herself. Mulan had died just as bravely, held securely in her daughter's arms.

As for Miayo, she felt the fire blazing stronger, scorching hot...not around her...but _inside_ her.

"It's alright, Mama," she whispered to her dead mother, "I know what I am now. I know what I am."

 **-.-**

Reacting to the dreaded news of Mulan's death, a great sea of China's people grieved and offered the Fa Clan their prayers and hoped for a better future.

Fa Zhou had received word that his granddaughter was found alive among the ashes from one of the soldiers who usually patrolled the General's compound.

The Emperor himself, despite how pale and brittle he was now, had sent Miayo a special written massage regarding his memories of Mulan and praised her valor.

Shang hurriedly returned to the ruins of the his home as well with a number of his men, and he pulled all the authority he could to remain there for a time in order to rebuild the walls from the ground up. He oversaw everything that needed reshaping and mending. He made sure it was done rapidly and marvelously. Day and night, soldiers soldiered, servants served, carvers carved, and the metal crafters crafted with their best metal.

Meanwhile, Miayo required more time to heal her own spirits naturally.

Shang provided her the opportunity to spend the last month of repairs with her grandparents at the Fa Estate. So she sat working at the loom with her wrinkled chatty grandmother Fa Li, busying her thoughts. And she ate fresh rice with her Grandfather Fa and quietly listened to the lessons that warfare had personally taught him. They also liked to discuss the ways of the Afterlife, and what happened to mortal souls once they were freed.

Miayo came to her grandfather again one afternoon, and she immediately asked him if he knew the tale of Nu Kua. Among several decent subjects, Fa Zhou had immediately realized that his granddaughter harbored a strange keen interest for dragon stories, specifically for the ones she had heard from Mulan beforehand.

But he still answered her. "I recall...that the goddess you speak of was born part mortal and part dragon, and she grew to breed other dragons too, ones who owned the magic to change shape from human forms one day then back into dragons other days. Those dragons could also rise to the Heavens, swim to the bottom of the seas, and even their change size."

"And some could breathe fire," Miayo added.

Fa Zhou shook his head modestly. "No, child. All dragons of our homeland have dominion over water and storms. That is the true element that they belong to."

"That's not what Mama said." Miayo did not sound angry, just unsure.

"Your mother was...a rare woman with rare stories," he compromised, "and she accomplished many great things during her time away. But surely, what she know about dragons, really?"

"She met one, Grandfather, when the war she fought in had just started."

"...She told you this?"

"Yes."

"It was just a story to amuse you, I'm sure."

"No, Grandfather," Maiyo corrected him again. Apparently Miayo decided that she was going to be the wiser voice for tonight, and that he would be her student. "It's the truth. Didn't she tell you about her Spirit Guardian who appeared to her?"

Fa Zhou stayed silent for one more moment. "Yes, she once told me about him. But she never mentioned that he was...a dragon."

"A dragon who could breathe fire. And he had _three_ claws, not five."

"I've never heard such of a thing." Fa Zu sighed with tolerance; because once having a daughter like Mulan had taught him to be a highly patient man, and now, his only grandchild who's so much like Mulan in several ways was _still_ teaching him to forever keep that patience.

"That's because he was _different_ , Grandfather. The dragon who found Mama in the bamboo forest was still handsome in his human form, and insightful, and very magical, as most dragons are—but he was a bit of a self-assured, manipulative troublemaker amongst the dragons already here, which is why he favored Mama to begin with. She was good at making trouble too, and was deceiving an entire army of men no less. He _enjoyed_ guiding her through the ranks and telling her what to do in battle. And Mama figured she didn't have much of a choice other than to trust him. It was either that dragon or death. Though by the end of the war however, they grew very close and cherished each other's company."

Fa Zhou listened to Maiyo's romanticized side to the legend their family had known already for years. Yet, now, remarkably...it was actually making _sense_...all of those little spaces Mulan had left in her tales of deception were beginning to fill up, and the parts where Mulan had been the bluntest, were finally becoming all the more clear.

"...It is rather fitting though, isn't it, Grandfather?"

"What is?"

"That out of all people...it was Mama who was loved by a dragon."

 **-.-**

Mushu's distress and aggravation over Mulan's murder did not cloud his better judgement for too long, for it was easily replaced with anticipation and love.

What really mattered was that the woman he had chosen would not have to be separated from him any longer. He conjured himself back to the place where he'd see her newly-liberated soul first and waited.

She finally appeared to him, strolling through the mist. Dead or alive, she was the same Mulan, eyes aglow with a silent, evident bravery.

Passing from the physical world wasn't precisely easy for anyone, though when she noticed him changing his shape and closing in to greet her, there was also trust.

They embraced and Mulan's hold on him was thankful and definite.

His humanlike hands threaded through her long hair that was unbound in death, his lips falling upon her temple. "You can come with me now, you know," he murmured, "I have the magic to sustain your spirit wherever we go."

"What of Miayo?" Mulan replied.

"We will return for her when she's ready," Mushu promised over again.

Mulan's eyelids fluttered downward. "I didn't tell her, Mushu...about Shang, I mean."

"Oh, but she knows," he took her hand, reshaped his form again, and together they flew off into the veil between worlds.

"Somewhere inside her heart, she has always known."

 **-.-**

Shang had invited Miayo to have supper with him that night back at the compound. And she quickly understood it wasn't all about exchanging pleasantries or to offer her more words of comfort.

"You'll need to be married soon," was how he started their meeting.

"Why?" she challenged him openly. She didn't even bat an eyelash. "Mama never thought I'd need to."

Shang stared back at her hard and steady over the rim of his cup, stopping mid-sip. When he slowly placed it down upon the wooden surface again, he sighed. "Listen here, Miayo. I know your mother raised you according to what she believed was fair, or necessary... and I am not saying she was wrong to do so, although, _I_ believe marriage is also necessary for a daughter of your age. You need to be provided for now that she is gone."

"I can look after myself."

"But for long? This is what's best. You must find your place in the world beyond the walls of this house again."

"Though I do not wish to get married!"

Shang summoned up as much patience within himself as he was able. "As soon as you'll see how good marriage is and how it can serve you and your future children, you may change your mind. Besides, I've sent my mother out to find you a proper Matchmaker already." He ignored the shock dancing across Miayo's features, feeling betrayed by his mother. "...This Matchmaker has agreed to come here to meet with you in three days' time. And I do expect you to be prepared by then. No excuses."

Thrashing to her feet, Miayo allowed her own cup to roll off the table and wet the floor with whatever she had left in it. Shang watched the tea spread over the light colored matting, creating a dark long stain there. He snapped his head towards the girl with the intension of ordering her to recollect her self-control and to clean it up. But Miayo was already twirling away out through the doors, her red robes flying out gracefully around her despite her hastiness.

 **-.-**

The maids coaxed Miayo out of bed, stripped her down, bathed her, pinned her hair up, and redressed her layers in formal wear until she engulfed in elegant blue fabric embroidered with purple and ivory flower petals. A pink sash hung low at her waste and it matched the pink wings they had painted around her eyes. Her lips were brushed with red dye and they traced her lashes with kohl.

Miayo's selected Matchmaker, a tall, thin, strict-expressional woman with a black mole rooted on her cheek, had arrived at the gates and walked into the chosen room as if she was made of gold and knew more than anyone else on earth.

Miayo glared at her in greeting after she was led into the room as well, and Shang aimed her a look of fatherly warning not to do that.

The Matchmaker circled Miayo three and half times, inspecting her up and down, then she decided, "She'll make you a good trade indeed, General."

And before Miayo knew it, Shang left to go wait on the other side of the doors and Miayo was ushered over to kneel at their table, with the Matchmaker still trying to take charge. "Pour the tea, girl," she sneered.

Miayo did not budge.

"Are you daft, child? Did you hear what I just said?" barked the Matchmaker.

Miayo didn't care to listen. She held nothing that personal against General Shang since she knew he had cared for her mother greatly...but it was this _woman_ , the whole _situation_ that brought out her revulsion and irritability once more.

Her fingers flexed stiffly in her lap.

"How dare you disobey me! You're not going be a worthy bride with this approach!"

Miayo tensed. Her skin heated, the nerves in her stomach ignited and her mouth tasted like hot ash.

"You insulant child!" the Matchmaker's voice rose to a sharp screech before she slapped her decorative fan down on the wooden surface, making it sounds like a whip. She shot up to physically reach for Miayo. "You must respect your elders! You must obey them. You will have to serve your future family! You're unacceptable, you will never be worth anything if you do not—!"

Miayo's composure cracked and she snapped her head up towards the horrible woman and rose to her feet, backing away, snarling. The Matchmaker's anger soon melted to fear and she let out a deafening scream when Miayo began shuddering puffs of black smoke past her lips. Though the scream had caused Shang to shoulder the doors back open in question, ready for to defend them from some sort of attack. But he too, was caught by complete surprise by the sight before him. He muscles stilled with astonishment. For once, didn't have the answers, he didn't what to say or do in that following moment.

Miayo's eyes were different. They were glowing, mainly red and partly yellow with menacing slits for irises. She stood there with fingernails turned into long narrow claws and her arms shook in rage. Her chest heaved over and over again, and then, the unthinkable happened. She opened her mouth, bent forward a bit, and breathed fire.

The stream of flames shot towards the Matchmaker, who actually had the decent reflex to duck down alongside the table for cover. The room lit up in the blaze. Shang tried to get his thoughts in order and shouted Miayo's name to make her stop before any of them ended up dead.

Miayo roared with a tone that was a little more beastly than human.

 _"I will not be tamed!"_

 **-.-**

"You should have heard of Mulan's encounter with her first Matchmaker. Daughters are a different type of battle ground. But no less simple," Fa Zhou advised him. He had heard Miayo's own Matchmaker trial did no go as planned. That was putting it lightly though. He didn't know better. "They need to be with handled with grace, caution, and skill all at once—"

"She's from dragon seed." Shang blurted out unexpectedly.

His father-in-law flinched and blinked up at him. "What's that?"

"She's not mine. Mulan was loved by another."

 **-.-**

Miayo soon went missing.

Her pink sash was tied to one of the branches of the blossom tree, blowing in the wind. Shang was told by the guards that Mulan's armor was also gone and Miayo had apparently taken every piece of weaponry she could carry on her before she left.

It was clear that these actions were deliberate; the sash put out there as a makeshift signal she was at least unharmed and not stolen away by someone else.

Shang wondered where she had gone to and felt reasonably responsible for things coming to this.

He sent scouts out to find her of course, thinking if Miayo could be coaxed back home, that they could discuss it over together.

But, then again, Miayo obviously she ran off because she didn't _want_ a to discuss any of it with him, and by how her clothes were discarded in the middle of the forest showed that she chose to wear a disguise and didn't wish to be found so easily. Shang recalled the girl's silly habit of looking to a the great mirror in the north corridor, and now that silly habit made much more sense: Miayo was looking for herself. She left home because she wanted to discover who she really was, what she was meant to become without him telling her what to do.

So, even though his aching heart was not fully in it, Shang ignored his instincts. He ordered the search off completely.

He did exactly what Fa Zhou had done for Mulan all those years ago.

He forced himself to let her go, to only cling to the sole glimmer of hope that _she'd_ be the one who would return to him one day.

 **-.-**

"I do not understand this, my son!" his mother howled in ire and misery. She was pacing the room back and forth, still half-knowing, still half-in the dark. "What has happened? You're house catches fire twice in a mere matter of months, and Miayo leaves without word now? Why would she leave? What are not you not telling me? Don't you think that is quite suspicious? She's to blame...is that it?"

Shang wasn't willing to confess all of what he knew to be true. His mother possessed a strong temper (one that helped her tolerate being a General's wife in the past) but she had a fragile heart in her elderly years. If she knew that his so-called daughter was a really a bastard child—a love child of Mulan's untold affair—she would not take it well.

The last thing he needed today was his mother fainting from the shock.

Though, he was still trying to be that same loyal son she raised and give her a simplified response, scanning the horizon. He felt that winter was slowly on the rise, too. He could somehow feel it in the wind at night.

"Miayo only belongs to herself now."

 **-.-**

Miayo had traveled alone for many days. She walked through the jungles, slept in the mountains, hunted rabbits over pastures with her bow and arrow, and she bathed in the natural hot springs along the way. Eventually, one afternoon, she had passed by a band of soldiers and she bargained prices for the captured male slaves they had who all survived the Epidemic and were taken away from their hometown. In both gratitude and obligation, those slaves became her men, her own little defense force. And Miayo played by her own rules and bowed to no one else. They carried out a rough sort of justice, refusing to call themselves heroes or villains, and they went on killing several rapists and thieves they had caught in the act one at a time. They even slaughtered away a number of spies and rivaling scouts scampering through China's streets, sliming down the enemy's ranks before the Imperial Army even knew they'd gotten passed the Great Wall.

The Girl of Fire and Steel was what the men referred her to as, for her ways with the blade were impressive and her temper and her soul were fueled by an inner scorching blaze unlike anything they've ever encountered.

She rode on the back of a dark steed that reminded her of Khan and she kept to the countryside. Her chosen clothes from there were simple and all of dark hues, and she either wore her hair in one long braid down the side of her neck or she did nothing to it at all; she just allowed it to fly loose and free.

The men noticed how her exposed skin would hiss with puffs of steam out in the rain, and her hard demanding eyes glowed a yellow-red like a lizard's when she became annoyed or downright enraged.

And even though it was against tradition and custom, and she was not born from royalty, people soon began to recognize who she was by the red (three-toed) dragon she paraded on the pads of armor she had made for them.

 **-.-**

Miayo stood staring over the edge of the cliff, face stern and composed, eyes narrowed ahead towards the skies ahead. Her black clothes hung loosely on her limbs since they had originally belonged to a large dead man. Her mind continuously screamed for her mother, for more dragon stories, for more blood and fire, and her nerves were restless and jumpy. Her inner-self felt like it was trying to stretch off to a faraway place and this wasn't where it truly belonged. Another part (the human part) of her wanted to see Shang again, for he was her family too...more or less. But, she knew better than to go running home—she knew if she went back now, it wouldn't last—she'd grow even more agitated there than she would out here. She'd want to leave again eventually. She would hate staying in one place forever. She chose freedom. She'd just brake Shang's heart a little more than she and her mother probably already had in the past. So, it was just safer this way. It was better to stay away and stay fighting.

The morning was cool, calm. But it left the forest misty after the previous rainstorm. The mountaintops were clouded now and the only other color she could see beside the mass of white and grey was the green leaves hovering above.

A familiar heavy-booted stride came up behind her. "My Lady."

"What is it, Chen-Dong?"

"We found more men," he informed her. "They've come to pledge their service to you."

"Is that so?"

"...Will you not greet them?"

"I'll be there shortly."

"My Lady?"

She faced him this time, lips parted. "What is it?"

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I?"

"Miayo...," he said then lowly, softly, pleadingly, more personal and direct. His hand came forth and seized her under the elbow. "...We know you're a great warrior and we know you're our leader. You don't _have_ to be so hard and stiff every moment of every day."

Chen-Dong was closest to her own age compared to the rest of their men. And while the others were indeed loyal and bloodthirsty enough to follow her like decent soldiers, Chen-Dong became more something...more like a _friend_ to Miayo. He was sweet, even. Poetic-hearted and carefree, and a bit of a jokester, but, he was also just as impish and sneaky on his feet and could gather information from the main towns without really being noticed. That was his true hidden talent. Miayo favored that, because he knew how to be highly useful in the smallest of ways. Overtime, he became her eyes and ears wherever she couldn't be at the time, and, it was also Chen-Dong who found out about her _secret_ first—not that she was raised by Fa Mulan and General Li Shang; no, her level of education and conduct easily reflected that of the Upper Classes, and it was just obvious to all of them—still, Miayo allowed Chen-Dong to see the side of her the others didn't know right away—he knew she was dragonborn.

"How can you expect me to be tamed?" she shot back. "Fire cannot be restrained."

"But it can be put out," he reasoned, "...it can be calmed. It can be kindled."

She met his eyes at the point and she looked a bit amused. Flattered, charmed by him. Pulling back from his touch, she finally brushed past him. "Let's go. Hurry."

"Yes, My Lady."

 **-.-**

Miayo's personal numbers grew since that day, going from a concealed fourteen to a healthy forty-five. Among them were even a few lively hardheaded women looking for their own adventures too.

By the end of the season, tall fires were lit all around their campsite and drinks were raised.

 _"Our Lady made of Fire and Steel!_

 _Our Captain! The Red Dragon of the Wild!"_

 **-.-**

Her tent was dark and musky inside, yet somehow Chen-Dong could see the outline of Miayo's curves clearly for they seemed to light up by thin streams of red from beneath her skin. Like a paper lantern in woman form.

Her nails bit into his sides and her palms were hot on his naked back as he shifted his weight between her thighs her and his lips landed tenderly on her throat.

When she released with him, giving one last pant, he could sense her fire cocoon him and simmer up throughout his own veins.

 **-.-**

The air grew warmer.

They said there's a girl out in the wilderness, a girl fighting with a rough crew of men. She was twice as spirited as flying bird and thrice as wild as a dog during combat. She held her head high while facing the Mongols and all those foes went down in flames. Shang heard the gossip. How could he not? Stories like these were not bottled up and confined in society so willingly.

She's not quite a War Hero, but she's not completely against protecting China's defenses either. It had to be Miayo, no doubt.

Shang had his urges to saddle up and go see this for himself, to speak to her again, to see the last blood of Fa Mulan alive and thriving.

Though he still wouldn't go through with it.

Miayo wouldn't be swayed by his wishes and be dragged home. She crossed too many bridges now and crossed so many more lines to just come back and forget everything that had happened.

He glanced over at his second wife cradling their infant son then. Lai Sya was highly respected among the other women in the city. She was graceful and levelheaded, and she minded his every order without protest, and she was just...just very average. Uncomplicated. She kept no secrets from him, she caused him little trouble, if at all over the course of their set marriage. But, still, after counting his losses, and coping with all the grief, and asking the Ancestors the same silent questions over and over, Shang didn't have the heart to loath her. He quite adored her, actually. Lai Sya was a good wife, a kind and helpful mother as well. Granted she could never ride a horse bareback or handle a blade as well as Mulan could have, and she didn't have the same pair of dark coal eyes that shined with a lively passion and rebellion like Mulan...though, she _did_ give him a healthy son to call his very own and she could do needlework better than any of the other soldiers' wives, and she was a very splendid cook.

His gaze soon fell upon his sleepy infant again sagging against her breast, his little fists clutching the material at her shoulders.

In that instant Shang supposed, that one day, it'd be _his son_ holding a sword, sparring out on those bloody battlefields in order to prove his worth and to grant their family honor.

And Shang vowed to do the right thing and prepare his son before then, through and through.

Because now there were bound to be dragons fighting amongst the masses too.

* * *

 **So just to sum it up, this was an experimental oneshot. Mulan's suffers a tad bit of an identity crisis when the war is over and she became Shang's wife back at home. So Mushu, as her closest companion, takes charge of her happiness when Shang's away on his glorified war tour and he overall becomes her emotional crutch. Overtime it's evident that Shang could bring out the ice in her, while Mushu had the fire to keep it at bay and thaw her again. I tried this idea out because I just didn't think too many had attempted something like this before...explored Mushu and Mulan's relationship to such a different (romanticized) degree.**

 **For a little bit more "darker" Mulan ft. Mushu by me, check out my other piece 'The Dragon's Soul.'**


End file.
